Bitter Partings
by Catmint
Summary: It's late, and on the night of the terrible events in HBP, Pansy sits alone in the common room with no idea of what is about to take place. This night may be the last time she ever sees her best friend.


**Bitter Partings**

**Disclaimer:** not mine. Make no money.

**A/N:** This is essentially a stand-alone fic, although it's also a companion fic to _Guilty of Absence_ in my _Lightning-Struck Tower arc_ series of fics (which will _eventually_ be posted – I haven't finished them all yet and I don't have much time at the moment so please be patient).

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The old, ornate grandfather clock in the Slytherin common room loudly chimed the late hour of eleven. The first, clear note startled sixth-year Pansy Parkinson enough to cause her to knock a glass of water all over her Charms book. Heart pounding wildly, she jumped again, though not as severely as before, as the second chime rang out through the otherwise-empty room. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she silently chastised herself for her jumpiness, and then swore as her hazel eyes took in the now-soaked textbook. Rescuing her essay before the spreading water could reach it, she pulled her wand from her pocket and directed a drying spell at the book, sighing with relief as the book was returned to its pre-spillage condition.

Why was she so jumpy? All day, she had been feeling nervous, constantly on edge, starting at the least little noise or movement, as though she were expecting something terrible to happen at the moment. Logically, it was stupid – nothing had taken place that day or during the previous one that had been out of the ordinary (apart from Blaise Zabini doing his homework for once, but that didn't count in Pansy's mind as it probably had more to do with the severe lecture on the subject that he had received from Professor Snape earlier in the day). Yet she couldn't shake the feeling, and it unnerved her. And Pansy Parkinson did not like feeling so.

Shaking her head in annoyance at herself as the last chime faded into silence and a log shifted in the grate, she put her wand away and picked up her quill to resume her essay. Just as she was about to dip her quill into the bottle of ink, however, she heard footsteps coming from the direction of the boys' dormitories. Exhaling exasperatedly, she threw down the quill (would she _ever_ get this essay finished?) she prepared herself for another spat with the arrogant third-year upstart Malcolm Baddock, from whom she had earlier confiscated ten Dungbombs. _He's probably waited till he thought I was in bed so he could look for them. Shame they're in Professor Snape's possession now._

It was not Baddock. Instead, her best friend Draco Malfoy appeared, dressed in elegant black robes that she had never seen him in before and clutching his wand. His face seemed paler than normal – or was that just the poor light over where he was? He started, clearly not expecting anyone to still be up. The Slytherins tended to turn in to bed reasonably early. "Pansy! I – I didn't think you'd still be up; nobody else is." With his left hand, he gestured across the common room.

"Finishing the Charms essay," replied Pansy. "What about you – what are you doing? I thought you went to bed an hour ago – goodness knows you need the sleep."

He tensed slightly – so slightly that none save Pansy would notice. "I – I've got to go…somewhere."

"Where are you going so late at night?" inquired Pansy, perplexed. "It's gone eleven – way past the curfew, so Filch and his blasted cat will be on the prowl. We've done our prefect duties for the night; he'll catch anyone out of bed now."

"I've got something important to do."

Pansy tilted her head to one side, regarding him curiously. Was this anything to do with what he had mentioned on the train back in September? "What?"

Draco's temper flared suddenly. "Keep your big nose out of _my_ business for _once_ in your stupid life, Parkinson! No wonder that's your name – you're certainly nosy enough!"

Pansy momentarily stared at him, shocked at his abrupt change in mood (something that had been occurring more and more as the school year had progressed as his temper grew more and more volatile), then sprang to her feet and swiftly crossed the short distance between them. "No, I won't! I won't because you're my best friend and I care about you too much to 'keep my nose out of your business'!" She seized his upper arm tightly and attempted to make eye contact with him, but he refused to meet her searching, anxious gaze.

Draco violently tore his arm from her grasp and threw it up in the air, grey eyes blazing with emotions beyond fury, far angrier than Pansy had ever seen him before. It scared her. He screamed, "If you cared about me so much, then _where the hell **were** you this year? _Well, Parkinson? _Where were you?_ You don't know what the _hell's_ been going on in my life because you _haven't been there!_ Well, let me tell you this – you'll soon find out!" He spun round and stormed out of the common room, face hard and robes billowing out behind him.

Pansy stood frozen to the spot, mind whirling, tears of hurt and confusion welling up in her eyes. His words had hurt her to the very core of her soul. She didn't understand. What was going on? What was Draco doing? Why was he so furious?

_Because he's right; I **wasn't** there_. She let out a choked sob, sinking to her knees on the common-room floor as the hot, salty tears finally spilled over and tumbled down her cheeks, sobbing as though her heart was breaking. And perhaps it was. Draco was going to do something terrible tonight, she was sure, and her best friend was a stranger to her now. Their parting had been bitter.

Her world had been shattered.

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**fin**


End file.
